Second Doctor Stan

ID: A screenshot from the Reddit post linked, with text reading:

"So I'm going to refute some of the more popular myths about trans women's vaginas by directly describing my own fully healed experience. (I had surgery several years ago using a fairly standard penile inversion technique that used some spare internal mucosa to supplement the vaginal lining. Recovery sucked, but it wasn't that bad.)

Yes, all the normal parts of vaginal anatomy are present. I have a vulva with clitoris and labia, a vagina, I can pee normally, etc etc etc.

No, I don't have visible scars. Some of us do, but they're usually not prominent, especially after a few years. Internally, thing must look quite normal too, since I've passed as cis during a pelvic exam with a speculum.

No, it's not an open wound and it won't heal shut if I don't dilate. It's not a piercing, it's a vagina. I don't dilate at all, and not only do I not lose depth, but I can take a fist if I want

No, I don't have to wash my vagina out. It has its own flora, so douching would generally be a great way to get an infection; luckily, it cleans itself. Yes, it smells and tastes normal.

Yes, I have totally normal sensation in my vagina, clitoris, g spot, etc. Yes, I can orgasm. Yes, I can self-lubricate. Yes, I have totally normal vaginal muscles (the vaginal canal transects the pelvic floor muscles, that's why you can grip and do kegels, though my pelvic floor is stronger than most through a lifetime of kegels).

No, I'm neither immune nor unusually prone to STIs, BV, yeast infections, or UTIs.

Yes, I can cis pass while having sex. No, I don't pre-disclose before casual sex, though I also tend to meet partners in trans-positive environments.

Yes, everything feels like it "should"; nothing feels out of place or misaligned, unlike before surgery, and really the only surprise was how unsurprising everything feels.

Like I said, the museum was a pretty snotty institution. It’s got a LOT of objects it’s way famous for possessing, but nobody knew about the absolutely massive collection of Moche erotic pottery it had because the curators were totally embarrassed by this stuff.

Some examples:

Pretty hot shit, right? They never, ever put any of this stuff on public view or published it in any catalogues but - we legit had like several hundred pieces of Moche ceramics in the “dirty pots” category. Anyway, I was left alone to just do my job with regard to the database for several years, ok? And I figured, well, these’re accessioned objects in the museum’s collection - better get down to bidness. 

I catalogued every goddamn bestiality, necrophiliac, cocksucking, buttfucking, detached penis, and giant vulva drinking cup in that collection. I’d be like, 

A drinking vessel in form of a standing man wearing a tunic and cap. He holds an oversized erection in his hands and stares into the distance (note I did not say “like he’s hella-constipated”). The vessel has a hole at both the tip of the penis as well as around the rim of the figure’s head, thus forcing the drinker to drink only from the penis or risk spilling wine all over themselves from the top of the vessel. Red and orange slip covers the surface of the piece.

Pretty straightforward, right? Apparently the deep seated fear of these objects that the curators exhibited was meant to spread to me as well, but - no one ever gave me that memo, because I guess Midwesterners reproduce asexually. When the curators understood that I had catalogued all of these objects in addition to the other, non-sexy pieces in the collection, they were apparently livid, but knew they had no legs to stand on in terms of getting pissed at me for it. 

I visited the museum’s online public access database a few years back and - every single description I wrote of these pieces has been totally neutered to say something like Male figural vase. 

The owner of this particular plantation had it built by slaves for 3 years. Every brick was handmade. Over 120,000 bricks on 2,000+ acres of land (this place was huge.) The clay used for the bricks came from the Mississippi River. The majority of the slaves are buried under the Levees and water. Some are buried with their Masters. Not allowed to live with them but could be dead with them.

Before you enter the house, there’s a list of slaves who lived here including their age and how much they were purchased for. 124 total. Some slaves were worth as little as $25. As young as 5 years old.

On this particular plantation, the owner was big on punishment…he used noise making neck restraints. Imagine three 4lb balls around your neck with bells inside. Children were restrained by ankle locks that connected between their ankles.

This was a sugar cane plantation, one the worst practices to involve slaves because of its danger. A lot of slaves were decapitated, amputees and killed from the fields and machinery. A lot of kids lost their lives creating sugar. Speaking of children, a child stood in the living room and operated the fan with a string while guests ate dinner. As young as 3 years old.

Here’s what shook me even further: Before the Civil War, a lot of slave owners were going in debt and could not afford their properties and were not producing enough cotton and sugar to maintain their lifestyles. Slaves were used as HUMAN CREDIT CARDS. Slaves were a guaranteed line of credit. You could get HALF of your property’s value depending on how many healthy and able slaves you owned.

My people were human credit cards and lines of credit to BANKS. We were property. We were labeled as equipment and nothing more.

There is no such thing as a good slave owner. They owned my PEOPLE and used them as checks and balances. This cycle continues with prison and brutality. I do not want to hear shit about “Why can only Black people say this or that?” I don’t want to hear shit about “we’re all human.”

SOME of the enslaved names, ages, race and purchase price.

The living room.

Interior.

The dining room. That piece hanging above the table is ORIGINAL to the house. That’s the fan that a slave as young as 3 years old had to operate manually with a string.

The view from the balcony in the main hallway. This is how they looked over the slaves while they worked in the yard.

*sigh* Names of the enslaved that occupied the shacks. Children included. Their names are written inside one of the shacks. I’m not sure if there are other names inside other shacks because I could only handle 2. After I saw the punishment equipment, I left.

Slave Shacks. These are NOT the original shacks. These were built to imitate them.

Slaves for Sale Ads.

The landscape of Slavery throughout the United States in 1860. JUST 1860. Let that sink in.

Note: The last time the home was OWNED by a Louisiana citizen was 1972. This is her original bedroom, her lipstick is STILL on the dresser. This is why the house has been updated since slavery times because it was occupied up until 1972. Regardless, this used to be where house slaves slept.

But Ian's in a matchbox

2) Many vapes contain diacetyl, which, when inhaled causes popcorn lung, or scarring of the lung

3) Ultrafine particles, when being inhaled, can be lodged in the trachea (not good!)

4) Ultrafine particles can also constrict the arteries in the lungs potentially causing A HEART ATTACK

The only reason I know this is cause some teens vaped in a Train with no ventilation and it gave me an asthma attack and made my heart race like hell until my legs gave out. So i looked up papers on what is in that stuff.

The Second Doctor: DON'T GIVE A SHIT

I feel like he just ended up wearing the First Doctor's hand-me-downs for the rest of his life, because everything on him looks like comical oversized baggy clothes. He barely ever changes his outfit, which looks even funnier when you remember how the Third Doctor used to go through like three jackets per episode.

And you know what? The script really leans into this (they constantly point out how small the Second Doctor is) .

There's just one tiny problem though – Patrick Troughton was over 5'7" (173 cm), and he and William Hartnell were almost the same height.

So his costume would've looked way too normal on him, no matter what – and they just let the TARDIS eat One's trousers and Two shows up in his magnificent wacky outfit instead.

The song is Out of Touch by Hall and Oates

DO NOT REPOST